let the past die
by friend9810
Summary: "I'm not self destructing. That already happened. Now I'm rebuilding." Julian Sark gains a new perspective on life. It may or may not have to do with him becoming a werewolf.


Sark came tumbling into the hallway. He meant to be much more graceful about it, but it was hard to be graceful when he was bleeding out. All his dealings with Sloane had finally come to bite him and the old fool had the gull to send people after him. It had to be him too since he was the one who employed Sark to be in that warehouse tonight. He was the only one who knew where Sark was going to be, it was so obviously Sloane.

Usually he would have predicted such a move or at least he would have shot first so the operative didn't hurt him, but he was blindsided by the fact that it as Lauren who delivered the blow. Lauren his ex-girlfriend? Partner with benefits? They never labeled it It didn't matter. Lauren, whom by all accounts, should be dead. He saw her dead body in CIA custody, examined it himself.

Milo bloody Rambaldi was becoming the bane of Sark's existence, and if his theory that the 15th century prophet had anything to do with Lauren's resurrection, he was also the cause of Sark's potential demise

He really hated Rambaldi.

The only saving grace was he managed to escape and he wasn't too far away from Beacon Hills. It had been two years since he had taken the artifact away from the eldest Hale and found out that werewolves were real. He didn't know much about werewolves but he figured there had to be something Peer Hale could do. He didn't know if Peter would even want to help him, but it wasn't like he had a lot of options. The wound was too much for him to take care of himself. He was shot twice in his side. It was a miracle he had made it this far. A hospital would be the first place Lauren and others would check. No one would guess he would come here.

He knocked on the door several times. When he didn't get a response he decided he would just pick the lock. He was still a master thief as well as an assassin, basically a jack of trade for all things criminal.

The lock wasn't that hard to break and as soon as he got the door open he hobbled insides. "Peter! Stiles!" He yelled out. It was past midnight, surely one of them would be here.

Sure enough, Stiles came out of one of the doors in the hallway, half dressed and his hair mussed up. He had gained some muscle since Sark last saw him. He also seemed to have a gained a collection of tattoos. Most notably one of a wolf and a fox chasing each other on the left side of his abdomen. There wasn't any doubt what he had just interrupted. He completely understood why the two ignored him when he knocked.

The boy took look one look at him. "Oh shit. You look terrible. Peter!"

Seconds later Peter walked out just wearing sweatpants that were hugging his hips. His eyes narrowed at Sark. "How did you get in here?"

"S'not hard.. to break in," Sark replied, realizing his words were slurring which was not a good sign, "Is there anything you can do?"

He hated how pathetic he sounded. He really wanted to kill Sloane or Lauren, preferably both. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Peter sighed. "I don't know. I could turn you but there are no guarantees it would work," He looked at Stiles, "Could you heal him?"

Stiles walked closer to him, inspecting his shook his head. "My abilities aren't there yet."

"Can't I become a werewolf?" Sark managed to get out.

"The bite is the only option." Peter replied, looking at Stiles.

"Are you sure you want to bite this guy? This is the first outsider you want to bring into the pack? The international assassin thief guy?" Stiles asked. Sark wanted to kill him. He did his best to glare at the boy. Logically, the boy was making sane arguments. No one should trust him, let alone save his life, and yet he had try.

"You would rather I just let him die here? He got past your wards, didn't he?" Peter countered. Sark didn't understand the last part but at least it seemed as though he was willing to help him out.

"Fair point. Okay, bite him." He looked down at Sark, "If you think about hurting anyone in this pack I will make you pay." There was fire behind his brown eyes that made Sark know he was serious.

"I swear, I just want to live." Sark said.

"It might not take, besides it means we would have to take responsibility for him for the first few weeks." Peter said seriously. It seemed like he was giving Stiles a way out in case the boy really wasn't sure he was okay with the decision to save Sark. Neither of them seem nearly as concerned as Sark was about the fact that he was bleeding out profusely.

"I've always wanted a puppy." Stiles said with a flutter of his eyelashes at his boyfriend. Sark began to reconsider ever getting involved. Maybe the hospital was a better option. Or dying.

"Not a dog." Sark grunted. It was becoming harder to talk. He looked at Peter, "I'll take the risk."

The older man sighed. "Fine." His eyes then turned red, he grabbed Sark's wrist and bit down.


End file.
